


Christmas Treats

by Bounding-Heart (Brief_and_Dreamy)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, More Fluff, Pastries, Snogging, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-01-23 04:08:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21313939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brief_and_Dreamy/pseuds/Bounding-Heart
Summary: Who is Draco’s Secret Santa???
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 33
Kudos: 72
Collections: Harry/Draco Owlpost 2019





	Christmas Treats

**Author's Note:**

> Love to L for betaing and checking the metre.

The fairly lights did twinkle and the tinsel glittered bright,  
The Manor grounds were blanketed with snow and sparkled white,  
Sharp tapping at the window, startled Draco wide awake,  
'Leave off,' he moaned, 'I'm napping, can't you see for Merlin's sake?'

But when he saw the owl, he bounded up, awash with glee,  
Then skipped into the parlour, where Mother sat by the tree,  
'Ahoy!' he cried, 'It has arrived, my Secret Santa note!'  
He plucked it forth, brandished it high, then promptly gasped and choked.

'Blast!' he wailed, 'The fates be-damned, I've the worst giftee received!'  
He fell against the fainting couch, upset, aghast, bereaved.  
His mother raised an eyebrow, gave a sigh and sipped her wine,  
'Calm down, darling,' she said and smiled. 'I'm sure it will be fine.'

Said Draco, 'You don't understand, this is the worst of luck.'  
To his horror his giftee was the boy he longed to <s>er</s> _tuck_  
Beneath a woollen blanket, while they cuddled one on one,  
And kissed and hugged and giggled, having much delightful fun.

But tragedy and sorrow, it would never come to pass,  
For this boy was deluded and thought Draco was an arse,  
I'll bet a knut you've guessed by now the boy of whom I speak,  
It should be pretty obvious and not at all oblique. 

Harry Potter, our great saviour, The Chosen One himself  
He who defeated Voldemort and stole the Malfoy's elf.  
Green of eye and black of hair, a scar upon his forehead  
Always gallant, always good, and never dark or sordid.

Draco had it bad for him–by bad I do mean hopeless,  
He'd loved him ever since Potter took down Lord McNoseless,  
He craved him with a passion which verged on sheer obsession,  
But he'd hid his love behind a façade of aggression.

And now–oh woe, oh help, oh no, trouble, pain and bother,  
Draco was tasked to find him a present like no other.  
'Mother!' He cried, 'I'm lost! I'm screwed! I'm completely done in!'  
'Draco, language!' she replied, 'There's no excuse for swearing.

'You can do anything, my love, you're brilliant, smart and skilled,  
You'll come up with the perfect gift, I've no doubt he'll be thrilled.'  
Feeling somewhat better, Draco summoned all his courage  
He'd succeed, of course he would, he wouldn’t be discouraged. 

He spent the next week thinking so hard he got a headache,  
Would a tie do? A racing broom? A pocket watch? A cake?  
He wandered through the snowy grounds, scarf flapping in the breeze,  
His breath steamed white, his nose went numb, then tickled, and he sneezed.

Time to head inside, he thought, his fingers had gone tingly,  
Then across the snow he heard the dinner bell a’ringing,  
Eagerly, he rushed inside. A walk builds up a hunger,  
He'd pick out a gift later, he had a while longer.

Inside elf served a scrumptious meal of sausages and mash,  
And as he ate inspiration came to him in a flash.  
Sausages! That's what he'd send. Some tangy, fat, pink bangers  
The tasty gift was certain to temper Potter's anger. 

Come morning he tied them up in glittered Christmas wrapping,  
Then gave them to his owl, which flew off, gently flapping.  
Draco watched it disappear through the clouded winter sky.  
Chin resting on his upturned palm, he gave a hopeful sigh.

Come noon Draco was restless, so he paced his bedroom floor.  
Just when he thought he'd lose his mind a knock came on the door.  
His mother entered smiling and his spirits were revived.  
'Draco, I’m pleased to tell you that a package has arrived.'

It was his gift! He clapped his hands, then eagerly snatched it.  
The paper was quite wrinkled; he wondered who had wrapped it.  
What could it be? He tore it open, too eager to wait.  
And there inside were three round doughnuts, arranged on a plate.

Draco laughed with sheer delight; He adored a frosted ring.  
And these looked delicious, ornamented with pink icing,  
So shiny that they glistened. Draco grinned and licked his lips,  
He'd only eat one now so they did not go to his hips.

He stuck his tongue into the hole and swirled it all around.  
He gave it a quick nibble, then gobbled the rest all down.  
Salazar, that was tasty, he thought, calm and satisfied  
His Secret Santa had done well, it couldn't be denied. 

But now again 'twas Draco turn. He wouldn't be out done.  
He knew the perfect second gift: some creamy currant buns.  
So round and plump and biteable. His face flushed red with heat.  
He had the elves whip up a batch, and sent them off toot sweet. 

The following day at lunchtime Draco's next gift arrived.  
A full, ripe fig! More scrumptious treats. A most welcome surprise.  
He dangled it by fingertip. The roundly bulbous fruit  
Reminded him of something. What? Eh, who gave a fat hoot?

He shrugged and opened up his mouth. He gave it a quick suck.  
Its juice was rich as syrup; Draco felt a bit awestruck.  
His gifter must be someone special to know him so well.  
He blinked away a happy tear, his heart began to swell. 

He'd have to wait and see, though. The reveal was coming soon.  
The very next day–Christmas Eve–it would happen at noon.  
That night he tossed and turned. Oh, who it could possibly be?  
Stop it, Draco, he told himself. You'll have to wait and see.

When night had passed, and morning too, he paced the entry hall.  
Would they be early? Would they be late? Would they come at all?  
And then the doorbell rang, startling Draco from his thoughts.  
He closed his eyes tight and licked his lips, his tummy in knots.

He pulled the door wide open and then had a giant shock.  
His skin went hot. His eyes grew wide. His sinuses unblocked.  
'What a coincidence,' he gasped. 'It's you! I'm so surprised!'  
He blinked a bit, for staring back were two emerald eyes.

Harry Potter–his own giftee. They had been made a pair.  
(And Draco couldn't help but see he'd failed to comb his hair.)  
Draco's stomach did a leap. It had all been quite worthwhile.  
'Yes, it's me,' stuttered Potter, with a gorgeous, bashful smile. 

'Your presents made it clear what gift you really wanted, see  
I was surprised, but not dismayed, what you wanted was me.'  
Blushing, Potter bit his lip and gave Draco a shy look.  
'I'm not wrong, am I?' he softly asked– that was all it took.

He didn't know what Potter meant–he'd simply sent him food.  
But Draco went along with it. He was naught if not shrewd.  
'I'm glad you got the message,' drawled Draco with a quick smirk.  
He hadn't planned this, but so what? It still had clearly worked.

'Sausages seemed a bit odd,' said Potter, looking puzzled.  
'But then the buns arrived and I was no longer troubled.  
Sausages are wand shaped, meaning a magic connection,  
And current buns mean things that give you a huge–

Draco didn't let him finish; he steeled himself and leapt  
Into Potter's arms and snogged him–so sweet he almost wept.  
Potter gasped but kissed him back, pulling Draco close and tight.  
Salazar, this was much better than how they used to fight.

They spent a good hour making out–caresses and soft lips.  
A miracle! Draco's heart soared, doing cartwheels and flips.  
Potter tasted more divine than any Christmas candy  
It did not take long until he'd made Draco quite randy.

At last, breathless, they pulled apart, both grinning ear to ear.  
Draco was so overjoyed that he wiped away a tear.  
Potter, too, looked on cloud nine–cheeks flushed pink and eyes alight.  
They went up to Draco's room, and didn't emerge 'till night. 

What went on inside that room? You'll just have to imagine,  
What passed between the Boy-who-Lived and his loving dragon.  
Some nibbling? A bite or two? Undoubtedly some licking  
Of more treats. Why not? Draco had ample for the picking.

The End


End file.
